


American Mouth

by sherlockssexysocks



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Cute, First Times, Fluff, Kisses, Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious, Pre-Serum/Post Serum Steve, Romance, Sad, Secrets, Sexy Times, Silly Boys, Stubborn, War, drunken antics, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 16:58:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2475629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockssexysocks/pseuds/sherlockssexysocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stevie…” He breathes against his neck. “When I get you home, I’m gonna get us a real nice hotel room, one of those fancy ones with the balconies, and I’m going to make you fuck me every-which-way, ya hear?”</p>
<p>Steve nods and presses a longing kiss to his forehead.</p>
<p>“You better make good on that promise, Barnes.”</p>
<p>or:</p>
<p>Five times Steve and Bucky try to have sex and one time they actually do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	American Mouth

It’s one of those dead Brooklyn nights. The air around them is thick and heavy and Steve feels as if he is breathing through a straw. His lungs feel tight, like there isn’t enough oxygen. The back of his worn, white shirt is clinging to his back and he can feel his fringe beginning to plaster itself against his damp forehead. Bucky doesn’t look much better, fanning himself with a rolled up newspaper as he pushes his wet hair out of his face. His face is shining with moisture and he has stripped down to his undershirt, a warm beer sitting opposite him on their chipped table. All of their windows are open in a bid to allow some fresh air in but they both know there isn’t any. Steve runs one finger the length of his beer bottle, marvelling at how warm the glass feels beneath his touch.

“This weather ever gonna break?” Bucky groans, raising his own bottle to his lips.

Steve smirks as he watches his friend grimace at the warm drink and shrugs one narrow shoulder.

“Dunno. I heard old Mr. Byron sayin’ that it’s s’posed to last all summer.”

Bucky rolls his eyes dramatically and begins to fan himself faster, a bead of sweat trickling down the length of his nose. Steve watches the bead travel with fascination and smiles when Bucky licks at it, a playful look in his eyes.

“You gonna take that shirt off, Stevie? You look like you’re melting.” He teases, winking at Steve as he downs the rest of his drink.

Steve goes back to looking at his drink and ignores him. Bucky watches him for a moment before standing and making his way over to their battered fridge. It wasn’t working too well anymore and most of their food spoiled before they got a chance to eat it but Bucky still insisted that they keep the beers there. He grabs them both another bottle and drops Steve’s one in front of him with a mischievous smirk.

“Drink up, stop sipping it and _drink_.” He urges as he pops the cap off for him.

Steve bristles a little at this but lets it slide, giving Bucky a knowing look before raising his bottle to his mouth and taking a large gulp. His stomach turns a little at the taste of the flat, warm beer but he swallows it regardless. Bucky raises his eyebrows as Steve downs the bottle without stopping, the smaller man ignoring the burning in his lungs as he chugs his drink. 

“I should have known you’d do that.” He sighs as he returns to his seat.

He places his bottle on the table and begins to unbuckle his belt. He pulls the leather strap out of the hooks and hangs it on the chair behind him. His pants slide down his hips slightly, settling themselves right on the curve of his pelvis. Steve averts his gaze as Bucky steps out of his trousers and folds them neatly, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tries to make the creases align. 

“You goin’ to bed?” Steve asks casually, his fingers now tracing the label of his new bottle, picking the corners nervously.

Bucky shakes his head.

“Not yet. Too hot to sit here in trousers though. Don’t know why you’re being so virtuous tonight, Steve. Just take off your clothes, ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

Steve rolls his eyes and begins to unbutton his shirt with an impatient huff. He knew Bucky was right and the sweat rolling down his back was enough to tell him that he was being ridiculous, but he _hated_ undressing in front of Bucky and all his…perfection. His body was lean but it was strong. He was wiry and tall and handsome and tanned. He wasn’t sickly and small and plain and pale. Steve could see the differences between them as plain as day and hated how Bucky acted as though none of it mattered. 

“Nice and slow there, Stevie. Gimme somethin’ to watch.” Bucky teases over the top of his bottle.

Steve’s fingers still over his button and he looks up to glare at his friend. Bucky may have been joking but Steve recognises the spark in his eyes, the slightly challenging set of his chin as he smirks at the smaller man. So Steve stands and walks around the table, a determined look on his face. He stands in front of Bucky, just far away enough so that the older man can’t reach him and begins to unbutton his shirt slowly, his fingers easing the buttons through the holes gently. He locks eyes with Bucky and he _loves_ the pride burning in the other man’s eyes, like he’s impressed. He slides the shirt off his shoulders and lets it drop to the ground behind him. He goes to undo his belt but Bucky shakes his head at him.

“Take off your vest too.” 

His voice is playful but it is deeper than usual and his lips are quirked into a small smirk as he watches Steve raise his shirt off over his head and reveal his pale, scrawny chest. Steve flushes a little under Bucky’s gaze and shakes his head.

“Why do I let you push me into these things?” he demands as he unbuckles his belt and drops his pants to the floor, stepping out of them gracefully. 

He feels bare and exposed in only his boxing shorts but before he gets the chance to complain, Bucky whips off his own vest and smirks even wider.

“There, we’re even now, punk. That better?”

Steve just rolls his eyes and goes to move back to his chair when Bucky leans forward and grabs his wrist, his pupils dark and round as he pulls Steve closer.

“Can I have a kiss?” he asks softly.

Steve watches him for a moment before bringing their mouths together, going so far as to allow Bucky to pull him onto his lap. They’ve done this before; have been for years. Ever since they were old enough to understand, they have explored each other’s mouths enthusiastically. Bucky had convinced Steve to try it one day after school and after that it had become a regular thing. It didn’t _mean_ anything, or at least that’s what they told themselves. They weren’t stupid; they knew that what they were doing was illegal and dangerous. 

They were best friends, not lovers.

They kiss until Steve can feel Bucky growing hard beneath him and he goes to pull away. That’s what always happened; the moment one of them grew hard, they would break away and give each other some space, both of them knowing that they _shouldn’t_ cross that line. 

Except this time, when Steve tries to break the kiss, Bucky deepens it. He runs his hands down Steve’s sweaty back and cups his ass through his boxers. Steve jolts a little at this but he pushes back into his friend’s touch, a little confused but still game. It’s only when he feels his own erection begin to grow that he pushes away determinedly, his chest heaving from their kiss. He raises an eyebrow at Bucky and smiles uncertainly.

“Something you wanna tell me, pal?” he jokes breathlessly, wondering why Bucky wasn’t pushing him away like he usually does when things get a little too hot.

Bucky runs his tongue along his lower lip and shrugs.

“I thought…figured we could maybe move things along a bit?” 

Steve frowns a little at this, his heart racing as he processes what it is his friend is saying.

“You mean…do it?”

Bucky sucks in his bottom lip and nods.

“Yeah…yeah, let’s…I wanna _try_ it, you know?”

Bucky is breathless and there is a pink flush tinging the tops of his cheeks. Steve blinks at him a few times before he feels himself shake his head.

“No.” He says softly, pushing himself off Bucky’s lap.

Quick as a flash Bucky’s hands are wrapped around his wrists, a frown creasing its away across his smooth forehead. His eyes are shining with confusion and hurt but Steve sets his chin defiantly and tries to pull his wrists out of Bucky’s grip. His friend lets go, a mortified look on his face. The air between them has changed dramatically and Steve shivers a little as he takes in the expression on his friends face.

“Stevie…I-”

“I don’t want to sleep with you if it’s just some kind of an experiment, Buck. I want…I guess, I just want my first time to mean a little more than that?” Steve blurts out quickly and now he is the one blushing, ashamed and embarrassed that he’s so sensitive.

Something flashes behind Bucky’s eyes that makes Steve’s chest squeeze even tighter and he _hates_ the way Bucky chews on his bottom lip before he nods stiffly. He only ever chews on his lips when he is furious. His long, wiry body is coiled tight and full of energy as he straightens up in his seat and nods once again. He let’s go of Steve’s wrists and clears his throat roughly.

“I get it…You want it to be with someone special and not…not me.” He growls before jumping to his feet and shoving Steve out of the way.

Steve gives his head a small shake out of confusion and glances at Bucky over his shoulder. The taller man had his head in the fridge, grabbing yet another bottle of beer.

“That’s not what I meant.” He says quietly.

Bucky doesn’t even look at him.

“Leave it, Steve. Forget I ever asked.”

 

……

 

Steve doesn’t forget what Bucky asked and some nights, when he is desperate and terribly alone, he wraps his fist around himself and imagines what could have happened that hot summers night.

 

 

……

 

 

Bucky is drunk, _ridiculously_ so. They are supposed to be on a double date but Steve’s date had disappeared pretty early on. It was Bucky’s last night; that was the only reason Steve was staying. The broad with her arms wrapped around Bucky’s waist looked exactly like all the others; slim, dark-haired, dark-eyed and incredibly pretty. She wore rosy red lipstick and her hair was immaculately coiffed. Steve wants to like her but he can’t bring himself to return her smiles, not when her friend had been rude enough to ditch him not even an hour into the date. Bucky was trying very hard to make it up to him, his long arm draped across Steve’s shoulders, pulling him closer and pressing him against his side. The girl, Susan, kept shooting him inquisitive looks, like she couldn’t understand why Steve was still here. Steve doesn’t know why he’s still here either. He wants to go home and curl into his bed and _cry_. There are tears already prickling the backs of his eyes and he knows that if he has another drink that he’ll start crying at the table, so he pushes his bottle towards Bucky and fakes a yawn.

“I should get goin’.”

Bucky’s grin fades slightly and he looks down at Steve curiously, his own blue eyes sparkling as if he understands.

“Ok. Lemme finish this beer and we can go.” He decides, raising his bottle to his lips and chugging the alcohol eagerly.

Steve glances at Bucky’s date and feels like apologising. She seems disappointed, her own drink still half full.

“James, I…” She starts to say but Bucky silences her with a chaste kiss.

“Thanks for the dance, Susan. Write me.” He calls as he grabs Steve’s elbow and begins pushing through the crowd, dragging Steve after him.

Steve allows a startled laugh to bubble out of his throat and follows Bucky loyally. Once they step outside onto the half-empty streets, Bucky sets off into a sprint, throwing Steve a playful smirk over his shoulder.

“One last race, Rogers?” He offers as they race through the streets.

Steve only laughs harder, his chest feeling wonderfully tight as he pushes himself to his limit. He knows Bucky isn’t running at his fastest but he’s still five yards ahead of him, his own laughter tickling Steve’s ear deliciously. They slow down as they turn the corner to their building and Steve is so _wonderfully_ breathless. He leans against the wall outside their door as he tries to catch his breath. Bucky stands in front of him, his own strong chest falling and rising with each laboured breath.

“You’re gettin’ faster.” He pants, winking at Steve.

Steve snorts and flips him the bird.

“Shut up, Barnes.”

Bucky grins even wider and steps closer. He places his hands on either side of Steve’s head and smirks down at the shorter man.

“One last kiss?” he whispers, lowering his head so that their sweaty foreheads touch.

Steve inhales a little too sharply and glances around. Their street is deserted but Steve is terrified of someone turning the corner.

“Not here.” He breathes, his breath hot against Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky makes a soft huffing sound before stepping back, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Steve swallows the strange tasting lump in his throat and takes out his key to open the door to their building. The walk to the second floor is silent and the longest of Steve’s life. He can feel Bucky’s eyes on the back of his neck, hot and unwavering. When they finally reach their own apartment, Steve is already half-hard and breathless. They hadn’t kissed since _the last time_ and Steve doesn’t dwell on the fact that they are probably only kissing because Bucky is so drunk he can barely toe off his boots without falling over. 

Steve crosses the creaky floor of their apartment and steps into their bedroom, trying to catch his breath and steady himself. He pulls off his blazer and begins to undo his tie, listening carefully to the sound of Bucky’s uneven gait as he followed him. He throws his tie on the bed and freezes when he feels two strong hands settle themselves low on his hips. His lips find their way to the side of Steve’s neck and he slowly begins to suck a bruising kiss that Steve knows will leave a mark. Steve feels himself melt against his chest and tilts his head upwards so Bucky has a better angle to work with. He kisses his way up and down his neck until Steve makes a soft whimpering sound, his eyes fluttering shut. Bucky licks along his pulse line and one of his hands slide further down his hips, resting just below his pelvis.

“Bucky…” Steve begins to warn as Bucky’s hand ghosts over his hardened cock but he shushes him.

“Gimme this much at least, Rogers.” He whispers, turning Steve around his arms and pushing their mouths together hungrily. 

Steve wraps his arms around the back of Bucky’s neck and moulds himself against his chest, eager sounds escaping his lips when Bucky sucks on his lower lip. Bucky walks them backwards to Steve’s bed and Steve folds himself over the mattress gracefully, never once breaking the kiss. His heart is hammering against his chest nervously as Bucky straddles him, holding his hands up over his head as they kiss. Bucky aligns their hips carefully and when he grinds down, he makes Steve moan loudly, his eyes shooting open at the sensation. Bucky chuckles at this and smirks down at Steve.

“You like that, huh?” 

Steve looks up into the blue eyes above him and tries to ignore the swollen feeling in his chest. He licks his slick lips and half-smiles.

“Please, don’t go tomorrow.” He croaks and now there is a lump in his throat and Steve _hates_ himself. 

Bucky stills and gives Steve a look he cannot read, his lips twisted unhappily.

“Steve, I…”

“Forget it.” Steve mutters quickly, averting his gaze. “Forget I said anything.”

They are both hard and their cheeks are flushed but Bucky rolls off of him without a word and simply lies beside him, his eyes fixed on the cracked ceiling above their heads. 

“I’ll be home soon.” Bucky whispers into the darkness.

Steve winces and shakes his head.

“I asked you to forget about it.”

 

 

…..

 

But Bucky can’t forget about it, not when he is overseas and trying to remember what Steve smelled and felt like beneath his hands. He can’t forget the way he had looked up at him with watery eyes and a hopeful spark and asked him not to leave.

 

…..

 

It’s Steve and yet, it’s not _Steve_. His face is there, filled out and stronger but much the same, really. But the body. The body does not belong to _his_ Steve. It’s too big and not his. 

“Bucky?”

Bucky feels his eyes flicker closed as he leans against that unfamiliar body, his head against his chest, desperately seeking out the irregular heartbeat that was _theirs_. Strong arms wrap their way around his shoulders and his own heart sinks when he hears nothing but a strong, healthy rhythm beating behind that barrelled chest. 

“Bucky, we gotta get outta here, pal.”

And this man, this Steve, he’s right but Bucky can hardly put one foot in front of the other without feeling as if he might pass out . Steve senses his discomfort and Bucky doesn’t complain when he keeps his arms locked around his shoulders and half-carries him to safety. There are so many questions on the tip of Bucky’s tongue but all he can think about is how much he has missed _him_.

 

.

 

Steve brings them back to an encampment far away enough from their Hydra cell to be considered safe. The rest of the team have moved on, Steve tells him. He ordered them to march ahead and wait for them in the next town. Bucky wants to crack a joke about Steve trying to get him alone but he doesn’t have the energy. He just sits beneath a tree and nods in the appropriate places, forcing smiles in others. 

“Should have known you’d find a way to get in.” Bucky smirks around his tin cup as Steve builds them a fire.

The blonde man flashes him a smile over his shoulder and shrugs.

“You’re the one who always told me not to let people overlook the little guy.”

Bucky swallows hard at this and sucks in his bottom lip.

“Wish they had overlooked you this once, pal.”

Steve stills a little and raises an eyebrow at Bucky, his face tight, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“What? You tellin’ me you don’t like my new look?”

And he’s trying to tease but they can both hear the barely constrained anger pulling at his mouth. Bucky shrugs one sloping shoulder and raises his eyebrows.

“No…it’s good. _Real_ good.”

And Bucky isn’t pretending. Steve looks… _amazing_ and there is a hot, shivery feeling rushing through Bucky as he imagines Steve pushing him into the mattress and fucking him the way he has always wanted him to. The fire dancing in front of Steve makes the gold in his hair shimmer and Bucky has never wanted anything more in his life than to close the distance between them, reach through the flames and kiss him.

“Better than skinny Steve, anyway.” Steve jokes half-heartedly. 

Bucky drains the rest of his drink and shakes his head. 

“Nah. Not better ‘cause I sure as Hell loved that guy but I guess I love this one too.” He mutters softly and his cheeks are burning because _they don’t do this_ , they never get soppy.

“I love you too, Buck.” Steve promises with the sincerest of smiles, crawling his way around the fire until he is right at Bucky’s feet. 

Bucky tries to bite back his own smile but he stops resisting when Steve folds his body over his, moulding themselves around each other. Bucky lets his arms twine their way around his neck and Steve lowers his mouth to his, hovering and pausing for a moment, blue eyes meeting blue and waiting for permission.

“I thought you were dead.” Steve breathes against his lips.

Bucky snorts softly.

“I thought you were smaller.”

They close the distance between one another and when their lips finally touch, Bucky feels as if he has gone back to Brooklyn. The war around them fades away and all that there is, is this, this stolen moment in the middle of a black forest too close to enemy lines and too far away from home. Steve still kisses like _Steve_ and Bucky is grateful. He is all teeth and clumsy touches and Bucky’s heart feels as if it is going to explode right out of his chest. Steve ghosts a hand up under Bucky’s shirt and pauses when his fingers come along the scarred, puckered skin of his stomach. His thumb ghosts over the wound, still tender but thankfully stitch free. 

“Bucky…” Steve whispers, his eyes wide as he pulls away, both of his hands now tugging at Bucky’s shirt.

Bucky slaps his hands away desperately and fixes Steve with a furious look.

“It’s _nothing_.” He growls.

Steve freezes and his face softens as he nods, an uncertain look in his eyes.

“Okay.” He breathes, his head still nodding as he rocks back onto his heels.

Bucky tucks his shirt back into his pants and tries to ignore the way his head is spinning. His chest feels too tight and when he leans back against the tree trunk behind him, there are bright spots dancing in his eyes. They stay like this for the longest time, until Steve clears his throat and runs one hand along Bucky’s thigh, his long fingers tickling him softly.

“I’m sorry, Buck.”

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut and pushes Steve’s hand away gently.

“Just…leave it, Rogers.”

 

 

…

 

Steve does leave it. He doesn’t mention it again, not even when they have regrouped with the rest of the Howling Commando’s and they are all stripped down to their skivvies, charging their way through a river on a rare warm day. Bucky’s scars are still pink and startling against his tan skin but Steve averts his gaze loyally and pretends he can’t see them. 

And it _hurts_ because all he wants to do is kiss them better.

 

…

 

“I never thought I’d sit in a civilised establishment again.” Falsworth sighs as he leans back in the armchair seated opposite the roaring fire.

The abandoned pub in the middle of Paris serving as a military base was so overt it was covert. Or at least that was what Peggy kept telling Steve. He glances round at his men and tries not to laugh at their exhausted faces and sighs of pleasure as they are each handed a tankard of beer and a warm meal. Dum Dum and the others were all seated around the fire. Dernier furiously hissing at some officer in French. Steve knows enough French to understand that they were discussing the fall of Paris. Bucky was sitting in a corner by himself, his eyes distant and faraway. 

“Sergeant Barnes seems awfully distracted.” Peggy whispers by his side.

Steve looks down at her and offers her a reluctant smile.

“He hasn’t been the same since…HYDRA.” He sighs.

Peggy places a hand on his arm and gives him a reassuring smile.

“That’s to be expected. He’s lucky to be alive.” 

Steve doesn’t mention the fact that he doesn’t think Bucky sees it that way. He knows his friend wouldn’t want him talking about him like that in front of a dame like Peggy. Steve is acutely aware of the fact that Peggy’s hand is still on his arm and out of the corner of his eye, he can see that Bucky is too. He gently detaches himself from her grip and gives her one of his ‘Bucky’ smiles, full of charm and confidence. Peggy sees right through it however and simply raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll excuse myself, shall I?” she asks with a wry smirk, taking a step backwards. 

Steve huffs a dry laugh and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, I should be the one excusing themselves. I gotta go check on Bucky.” 

Peggy rolls her eyes good-humouredly and makes her way towards the rest of the men, clapping a hand on Dum Dum’s shoulder and congratulating them all. Steve pushes past them and makes his way over to Bucky, a gentle smile tugging at his lips when Bucky’s eyes meet his. The dinner opposite him remains untouched and he flinches a little when Steve pushes it closer to him, a concerned look on his face.

“You not gonna eat, Buck?” 

“Not hungry.” He grunts around the lip of his tankard, his sharp eyes never leaving Steve’s face.

Steve wants to tell Bucky that he _should_ be eating, that he needs to keep his strength up but he doesn’t want to push him further away. Instead, he pulls the plate towards himself and begins to spoon the food into his mouth, grinning up at Bucky as he does so.

“’M starvin’.”

Bucky half-smirks and nods.

“Super-soldiers need their super-strength.” 

They can both hear the slightly sour tone in Bucky’s words but neither of them draws attention to it. Steve downs his own drink in one and places the empty tankard on the table with a loud bump. Bucky jumps a little at the sound in a way that he wouldn’t have before. The loud laughter of the rest of the Commando’s distract Steve’s attention for a moment and when he looks back at his friend, he is on his feet and buttoning his jacket.

“Goin’ to bed.” Bucky grumbles as he edges his way past the table. 

Steve jumps to his feet and follows suit, ignoring the calls and shouts of his men asking him to stay and drink with them.

“Nah, need an early night.” He says over his shoulder with a grin.

He thinks that he can see a knowing look in Dum Dum’s eyes but when he meets his gaze challengingly, the other man looks away and drains his drink. He charges after Bucky, who has already descended the stairs and is rolling out his bed for the night, his shoulders hunched and his back taut, almost as if he were expecting some sort of an attack.

“Bucky-”

“Are you ever gonna fuck me?” he demands, spinning around and facing Steve with a furious look on his face. “Or are you just gonna keep teasin’ me?”

Steve falters a little and frowns down at his friend.

“I…I don’t understand wh-”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Bucky scorns, his face twisted in a way that is so unlike him. “Look, I ain’t foolin’ around no more. You wanna fuck me, fine. I wanna fuck you too. I’ve wanted to since we moved into that shitty apartment and I had to watch you change every night, all modest and shy like some dame, Stevie.”

His face has relaxed into something softer and Steve’s chest feels tight like it used to before. Bucky gives him a look that’s so sincere it hurts and before Steve knows what he’s doing, he’s pushing Bucky against the wall behind him and kissing him within an inch of his life. It’s different from all the times before, now that they both know _exactly_ what the other wants. Bucky’s hands are everywhere as they rub his sides up and down and reach around and cup his ass like he used to when Steve was just a skinny kid without much to grab. It doesn’t take much for them both to get hard and when Bucky aligns their hips _just right_ , they moan into each other’s mouths, hungry and desperate for more. Steve fumbles with Bucky’s belt and tries to pull the other man’s trousers down. Bucky, in turn, fiddles with the clasps of Steve’s jacket, pulling the garment from his broad shoulders and tossing it the ground beside them. 

“Do you want this?” Bucky gasps into his mouth as he tears at Steve’s shirt.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Steve chants when Bucky’s mouth finds the side of his neck and begins to suck.

Steve tilts his head backwards in order to give Bucky a better angle to work with and makes soft whimpering sounds as the other man’s hands begin to wander down his bare front, one hand ghosting its way over sensitive nipples.

“I love you, Buck.”

Bucky stops sucking a bruise on his skin and instead presses feather-light kisses against the wet flesh, his lips soft and pliant as he works the flesh teasingly.

“Stevie…sometimes I can’t _breathe_ when I think about-”

Bucky falls silent as the door to the basement opens, followed by the sound of booted feet making their way down the stone steps. Steve springs away from Bucky, quick as a flash, and hurriedly tries to right himself. Bucky follows suit and pulls his trousers up desperately, trying to flatten his mussed up hair as he does so.

“Captain Rogers, Agent Carter has just informed me of…”

Colonel Philip’s voice trails away as he pauses on the steps, taking the two of them in slowly. Steve can feel his heart throwing itself against his ribcage and he wonders if, with his new found strength, his heart might find a way to tear itself out of his chest. His sharp eyes look between them both for a moment, his mouth set in a thin line as he inhales deeply through his nostrils. Steve glances at Bucky and winces. The smaller man looks thoroughly debauched with his mussed hair and red, swollen lips. His shirt is rucked up over his trousers and he is bone white, a pinched and horrified look on his face.

“Captain Rogers, once Sergeant Barnes has turned in for the night, would you be so kind as to get your ass into my office so we can talk about this _suicide_ mission you’re hell-bent on leading?” Colonel Philips finally orders before turning on his heel and marching back up the stairs, making a show of slamming the door. 

Steve exhales and turns to Bucky, a worried look on his face.

“I thought you were gonna pass-out, Buck. The look on your face!” he exclaims quietly, stepping closer to the smaller man and wrapping his arms around his slim waist.

Bucky falls against him heavily and lets out a stuttered, shaky breath.

“Stevie…” He breathes against his neck. “When I get you home, I’m gonna get us a real nice hotel room, one of those fancy ones with the balconies, and I’m going to make you fuck me every-which-way, ya hear?”

Steve nods and presses a longing kiss to his forehead.

“You better make good on that promise, Barnes.”

 

…

 

Bucky falls and Steve’s heart falls and shatters with him.

 

…

 

“ _Bucky?_ ”

The Soldier, pauses, freezes even. That name makes his stomach jolt and his foggy, heavy mind throb with an ache that reminds him of the Cold. He turns full circle and stares the blonde haired man down. They are alone. It is dark and it would be so very simple for him to slip into the black and disappear but the man is staring at him with eyes that are wide and staring and disbelieving and the Soldier feels as if he should stay.

“Who the Hell is Bucky?” he demands calmly, patiently even.

Because that name…that name sparks something on his tongue, a taste he has forgotten. He licks his lips uncertainly and bites back the urge to say the name again because it feels _good_. The man falters a little, a frown twisting his face into an expression that the Soldier wants to kiss away and he is surprised by himself, surprised by how much he wants this man’s hands on him. He takes a step backwards as the man advances slightly, one of his hands outstretched as if he too, needs to feel him.

“You’re…you’re my friend.” He gasps and he stops a few inches away.

Close enough to be a threat.

Close enough for Bucky to _kiss_ him.

The Soldier raises his knife and holds it out, pressing against the man’s neck, right beside the artery in his neck. One slice and the man will bleed out. He doesn’t move away, however, his wide, blue eyes fixed on his hopefully and the Soldier is disgusted by his blatant display of weakness. 

“I don’t have friends.” The Soldier answers sharply.

The man gently cups his wrist and the Soldier’s grip on the knife tightens. He is being foolish, he is letting his Mission get too close but when the man pulls his hand away, the Soldier finds himself letting his hand fall to his side, the knife dropping to the ground with a loud clattering sound.

“You have me.” He says, stepping even closer. “It’s me, Steve.”

The Soldier feels his eyes open wide as he says that name. A warm feeling washes over him and the Soldier is suddenly transported back to a dingy apartment with a fridge that never worked and a small man with a kind face laughing as he falls into the Soldier’s lap and wraps his arms around his neck, only to kiss him with such _want_ that the Soldier’s heart aches in a way it never has before.

“Steve.” He repeats quietly, bringing one shaking hand to his own lips and tracing the skin there, still tingling from a kiss that must have happened long ago.

There are tears in Steve’s eyes now and the Soldier feels strange. He feels weightless. There are so many emotions crushing his chest and when he holds open his arms, Steve steps in and brings their mouths together in the kind of kiss that makes stars explode behind the Soldier’s closed eyelids. He holds on too tightly and shoves Steve up against the wall of the building behind them. The Soldier knows that he’ll need to leave soon. The people Steve works for are surrounding the building as they speak but he can’t drag his mouth away from the wonderfully receptive lips beneath his. He runs his human hand down the length of Steve’s body and gasps when he feels that the other man is hard already. Steve blushes a little when the Soldier presses his palm against his bulge and makes a soft keening sound.

“It’s been _so_ long, Buck.”

That name unsettles him and yet he has no idea what he should ask Steve to call him so he ignores the feeling in his stomach and continues to work the heel of his hand against Steve’s erection. The taller man begins to grind against him in earnest, his eyes shut as he clutches onto to the Soldier’s shoulders desperately and there are images flashing before the Soldier’s eyes when he closes them. 

Steve laughing, Steve moaning in pleasure, Steve looking at him shyly from beneath impossibly long eyelashes…

Steve crying, Steve shouting out in pain, Steve yelling at him as he falls into the darkness and cold and ice…

The Soldier stops moving and freezes against Steve. There are stealthy footsteps making their way up through the corridor to their left. Steve is panting and his eyes are half-lidded as he watches the Soldier expectantly.

“I don’t _know_ you.” He hisses as he steps away from him.

And it’s a lie but one that he tells himself over and over as he dodges the bullets being fired in his direction. He doesn’t listen to Steve’s pleas of _please, don’t hurt him!_ He charges on through the building and disappears without a trace, wishing that he could forget the name of the man with the bluest eyes he has ever seen.

 

…

 

_I don’t_ know _you_.

The words haunt Steve as he searches high and low for his friend. It’s a lie. He knows Bucky knows him. He kissed him like he did.

 

…

 

“He’s recovering well.” Natasha comments as she watches Bucky and Thor spar competitively.

Thor is smiling but she can see that he is struggling to keep Bucky at bay, his training with Soviets making him one of the most skilled fighters she has ever witnessed. Steve nods to her right, a closed expression on his face.

“He’s…managing.” He agrees quietly.

He doesn’t mention that he had woken up to Bucky clawing at the freezer door, sobbing and begging to be allowed back into the Cold.

Sam makes a soft snorting sound to her left and shakes his head.

“He’s recovering _spectacularly_. How many men do you think would be able to cope with what he’s been through? That guy is amazing.” He declares proudly.

Steve gives his friend a small smile.

“Don’t tell him that, give him a big head.” He jokes.

No one mentions the fact that Bucky barely acknowledges the fact that he’s alive, never mind any compliment or praise any of them might give him.

 

.

 

Dinner that evening is a special occasion. It’s the first time in a long time that all of the Avengers are able to sit down together at a table and enjoy each other’s company. It is also the first time that Bucky has decided to join them, clean and freshly shaven. His long hair hangs over his face in two curtains and he sits at the corner of the table with his seat pushed back, giving him plenty of space to leave if needs be. Steve is seated to his right and he finds that he is extremely nervous. He keeps glancing at Bucky and he hates the way the darker man nearly bolts out of his seat when Thor slams his glass against the table and roars for another. He calms a little when Sam hands Bucky a glass of wine and he accepts it, the red drink staining his lips in a way that is sinful. Steve hates the pang of longing that shoots through his body when Bucky pushes his hair out of his face and gives Steve a small smile, his lips red and so utterly kissable. 

“You like the wine?” Sam asks as he leans past Bucky to pour Steve a glass.

Bucky nods.

“It’s good.” He grunts.

“Aye! It is Asgardian wine, my father sent it!” Thor declares joyously.

Natasha takes a sip of her own drink and wrinkles her nose slightly.

“Hm. That explains the potency. How strong is this stuff, Thor?” She asks.

Thor winks and gives her his most charming smile.

“Strong enough to help even soldier Steve get merry!”

Steve rolls his eyes at this and raises the wine to his lips, surprised by the sweet taste and familiar burning of alcohol sliding down his throat. When he lowers his glass, Bucky is watching him, a small blush creeping across his cheeks. Steve meets his hot gaze but forces himself to look away quickly, hating the way Sam and Natasha roll their eyes in a knowing manner.

 

.

 

Thor wasn’t exaggerating when he said that the wine would help Steve get ‘merry’. Steve is past merry. Steve is _drunk_. Steve is leaning against Sam as the younger man helps carrying to bed. Thor is ahead of them on the stairs, Bucky clinging onto one of his arms as the two of them sing some old war song that Thor doesn’t know the words to so he keeps adding his own. It makes Steve smile to see the two of them getting along so well. He tells Sam as much.

“Yeah, I know, buddy, sweetest thing ever to hear the two of them singing the explicit version of ‘Candy Shop’.” He teases, pushing Steve into his bedroom.

Steve stumbles in the door and smiles even wider when he sees Bucky stripping out of his clothes already. Thor is leaning against the door frame behind Sam, a dopey expression on his face. Sam is watching them both with raised eyebrows and a knowing look in his eyes. Steve opens his mouth to thank them when Sam cuts across him.

“Hey, Barnes? Take his sorry old ass to the candy shop, will ya?” 

Steve doesn’t understand the reference but it makes Bucky laugh and so Steve joins in happily. Thor and Sam slip away and close the door behind them, leaving them on their own. Steve is too buzzed to ask Bucky if he wants him to take the sofa and so he throws himself on the bed, landing with a soft thud. He toes off his shoes and socks and watches on lazily as Bucky steps out of his skinny jeans. His skin is all scarred and tortured looking and Steve just wants to kiss him all over. Bucky catches him staring but Steve doesn’t look away. Something darkens in his eyes and steps forward, a much more sober look on his face as he makes his way to the bed.

“You ever gonna fuck me, punk?” He breathes when he reaches the foot of the bed.

Steve feels his chest tighten and he sits up, quick as a shot and nods eagerly, his mouth dry and his heart racing because _Bucky remembers_. For months and months Steve has shared a bed with him, lying beside him, barely touching and secretly wanting to. He had figured that Bucky had forgotten, that he had pushed that trivial kind of stuff away, not seeing it as an important part of his recovery. 

Bucky laughs at this, soft and nervous, and he climbs the bed, his eyes bright and shining as he crawls onto Steve, his lips still stained from that damned wine and Steve just wants to kiss it all away, he wants to kiss him until he remembers how loved he is, how much Steve cares for him, how much he wishes they had done this that faithful day when Bucky had first proposed they sleep together.

“You’re…I’m glad this is gonna be with you, Buck.” Steve whispers as Bucky pulls at the hem of his t-shirt. “You’re…you’re more special than I deserve.”

Bucky’s movements falter slightly as he throws Steve’s shirt over his head and his blue eyes search Steve’s curiously.

“I loved you, even then.” He says softly, his eyes closing as Steve presses kisses across his chest. “I wanted you so bad, Stevie.”

He gasps softly as Steve takes one firm nipple in his mouth and begins to suck lightly. His metal hand tangles its way through his hair and Steve pulls away long enough to whisper _I love you_ against his bare chest. Bucky pushes his head back into the pillow and brings their lips together hungrily.

 

.

 

_I love you, too_ is whispered against every inch of bare skin and it is chanted like a prayer when Steve finally slides in home and _god_ it is perfection. It is everything they imagined and longed for and when Bucky arches his back and begs Steve to _never leave me, please, don’t ever_ , Steve folds himself in half and whispers promises against his forehead, telling him over and over that he’ll _always be by your side, ya hear? Never gonna leave you_.

They finish together and roll onto their sides, sweaty and breathless and when Bucky whispers;

“Special enough for ya, punk?”

Steve just laughs and laughs until his sides ache and presses a warm, loving kiss against Bucky’s lips and breathes;

“I love you, jerk.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, i pussied out at the ACTUAL sex bit. Sorry goiz but seriously, ive been trying to finish this for the last four weeks so i hope it was okay?
> 
> please tell me what y'all think! gimme a comment or anything. just wanna hear!


End file.
